


The Book of Michael

by saintmichael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x19 rewrite, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Michael-centric, archangels are good, archangels with non-canon powers, everyone but god is good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27774757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael
Summary: A reimagining of Supernatural where Michael has agency.Michael is before anything an older brother to three archangels, and his mission to make sure they are reincarnating safely takes him across the cosmos until he is flung unwillingly back into God's story when he erases everyone on Earth at the end of 15x18.Canon divergent Michael-centric AU
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Supernatural S15x19 and 15x20 presented an interesting thesis that people are pretty much doomed to die how they lived, abuse victims will be stuck in the cycle of abuse forever, and people are basically bad inside and out. By interesting, I meant bad. In my story, I hope to produce a more optimistic outlook on life, and give the side characters I liked some more generous representation. I hope you enjoy it.

###  **i.**

Michael hums the tune of his spell as he sprinkles crushed amethyst into the bowl of clear lagoon water. This seance is too advanced for simple words to handle, after all. Next he puts in gold flakes, and finally, strands of saffron, only just mixing in each ingredient.

“This is an expensive spell,” Adam says candidly. “Sometimes I forget you’re a prince.”

Michael cautiously halts the spell-song in order to focus on Adam’s words. “Adam, I need to focus on the seance. Is there an issue?”

Adam laughs from his soul. “No, sorry. Just being silly.”

Michael normally enjoys when Adam is silly, but this spell is delicate. He continues the spell-song from where he left off, tracing runes above the bowl with his finger to empower the water. Once it has been blessed with the power of astral movement, it needs direction. Michael places in a precise formation around the bowl essences of the four forces of the cosmos. For disorder and attraction, he simply places feathers to the north and south of the bowl. He’s more sentimental when it comes to the younger two, and places more meaningful objects of theirs, still infused with their essence, to the east and west of the bowl. He sighs a little as he places Gabriel’s face jewellery to the east. He still doesn’t know where he went wrong with that one.

“Everything okay, your highness?” Adam says, serious despite his teasing tone. “We can always do this another time.”

“Yes,” Michael agrees. “Tonight will be fine, however.” He knows Adam is uncomfortable with the small chance that the seance goes so badly that Michael is trapped out in the void for an extended period of time. If Adam was a more selfish lover, he would not support this endeavour at all. But he knows how important this is to Michael.

The forces of the universe are nothing without the two primal elements, light and dark. Michael has retrieved from his most secure storage the concentrated essences of both and carefully drops one drop of darkness to the northwest and southeast, and lightness to the northeast and southwest.

The air around them is now crackling with the power of the spell. Michael gets up to inspect the wards all over the room; they are holding firm. Still, he reinforces them even further with his grace before returning to the bowl.

“Kacha, neshir, vibrim,” he whispers to his brothers. Gabriel and Raphael’s items vibrate gently in response to his words, but Helael’s feather remains still. Michael frowns at it. He hopes it is simply because Gabriel and Raphael are close to one another in the void, and far away from Helael, such that the spell has decided it is optimal to point at them. If the feather is too old to locate Helael… perhaps Michael should have ripped one of Lucifer’s out, in the Cage. He’ll find an alternative, should he need to.

“The spell is active,” he tells Adam. “It has located the younger ones. I will travel to them now.”

“Right,” says Adam, with a nervousness he doesn’t have much these days. Michael rubs against him soothingly.

“If I signal to you there’s an emergency, or if I take over a minute to respond, simply pull your head out of the bowl,” Michael reminds him. “It will sever our connection to the void. You need not worry.”

“Except if you’re stuck there and it severs my connection to you as well,” Adam mutters.

“I can survive there. It is my birthplace. You cannot.” There is no need for further discussion on this point, in Michael’s opinion. Besides, with both God and the Darkness hanging out in God’s universe, there is nothing that would prevent Michael from returning in reasonable time anyway.

“Yeah,” Adam sighs. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Michael sits in the seat besides the bowl. He leans back, dipping his head inside the water, and surrenders control of the body to Adam. The gate he’s conjured is pulling at him, but not at Adam; the feather north of the bowl has attuned it to him. Michael relaxes his mental defences and allows his consciousness to be pulled down, down, into the depths of the water, before it’s flung forward, on a beam of radiant gold, propelling his mind out of his Father’s universe and into the empty space where all things primal were born. Or reborn, in this case.

The tiny sparks of life that are Gabriel and Raphael have somehow found each other, and are flitting at and around each other. It seems like they’re playing with each other, although Michael is aware that at this stage in their reincarnation, they’re doubtlessly entirely mindless. Still, he can pretend for a while that his baby brothers are playing tag with one another.

“We good?” he hears Adam ask, from an infinity away. He hurts a little at the realisation of how far apart they are at the moment, but responds simply -

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

He moves closer to the little ones - as expected, Raphael is a bit bigger than Gabriel, having died longer ago than he. They both look like they’ve reincarnated healthily, to Michael’s relief. He feels a little less like a terrible older brother now.

“You kids haven’t seen Helael, have you?” he murmurs to the small masses of particles that were once Gabriel and Raphael. No response, of course. “Causing trouble, as usual.” He reluctantly turns from the younger two and scans the great expanse of the void around him. No good. He can’t see anything aside from God’s universe in the void, and Lucifer died even more recently than Gabriel, so he’ll be even tinier. Michael needs the spell to direct him.

“Adam,” he calls back to his vessel. “Could you remove the jewellery and the small book from the gate?”

“Uhh, sure,” is the muted response back. To Michael’s disappointment, even with nothing pulling him to Gabriel and Raphael, he still cannot feel any pull to Helael. He soars around a bit regardless, just in case Helael was lurking near the younger ones, but nothing. He’ll have to find something with a stronger connection.

“Adam-“ he says, intending to ask to be pulled back, but he checks himself as he says it and finds two little infant archangels have managed to cling onto their older brother’s consciousness.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, as Michael attempts to peel them off, but they’re hanging on very tightly.

“One moment. Sorry.” He’s able to pull one off, but as soon as he turns his attention to the other one, it’ll stick right back on Michael.

“Please, this isn’t a game,” he says, uselessly. They can’t understand him in their present state. They are naturally inclined to join with the large noise-and-movement-making being that has suddenly appeared in their world. That must be how they found each other, Michael thinks. Does that mean Helael isn’t here, if they haven’t also joined up with him yet?

“You need to be a little more grown-up before you rejoin me in Father’s creation,” he informs them, and manages to pluck both of them off at the same time.

“Adam, now please,” he says politely, and he is jerked back into reality with the sound of splashing water as Adam quickly pulls his head out of the bowl, accidentally knocking it over in the process.

“Oops,” says Adam as he turns to look at the mess. “Uh, we can still get the gold and stuff out of the carpet, maybe?”

“It’s fine,” Michael says, “Did you think I purchased it?” He nudges Adam out of the driver’s seat and picks up Helael’s feather, twisting it in his fingers as he examines it.

“Something go wrong?” Adam asks him.

“It went very well, for the most part. Gavi and Raph are recovering well. I couldn’t find Helael, however. We’ll try again later.”

“Sure,” Adam says, but he’s hesitating a little.

“What’s wrong?” Michael wonders.

“Um,” Adam says awkwardly. “Is it necessary for the water to be so cold?”

Michael is puzzled. “It is ideal. When the water is warmer, the particles move faster. This may confuse the gate.”

“Sure,” Adam says. “It’s just, uh, cold.”

“Yes,” Michael agrees.

“I don’t know about archangels, but most humans don’t like to have their heads dunked in cold water for long periods of time,” Adam finally explains.

“It’s unpleasant,” Michael says in surprise as it clicks. “You didn’t mention this before the seance.”

“It uhh didn’t occur to me,” Adam says sheepishly. “But it sure as h- heck occurred to me after about the first five seconds.”

“I will think of a solution,” Michael promises. Now he has two things to brainstorm about. That’s two too many for someone who is retired. He cleans up the mess for Adam, and arranges a nice warm bath and hot chocolate for the miserable vessel.

###  **ii.**

He sits and watches Adam skate on the pink ice. The rules are different here, on this planet entire galaxies away from Earth, and he is sat manifest in a half-tangible approximation of his true form that towers over the frozen planet watching his tiny partner inexpertly spin around on the ice.

Michael’s mind is elsewhere, however. Since his initial attempt he’s made two more voyages into the void in hopes of locating his third brother. With zero successes, he is forced to retreat and reformulate his plan. He has a suspicion, an intuition, a lead that he can act on, although its very existence troubles him.

The Empty.

Michael hadn’t heard of it before he came out of the Cage, which is troubling enough. The afterlife for both angels and demons, apparently. Given that angels were soulless, and demons were  _ all  _ soul - what exactly is to be left of them after they die?

Michael has given it some thought and come to the conclusion that the universe has been  _ altered  _ so that they are  _ not  _ dying - not in the traditional sense. Their memories, thoughts, personality - those which would normally be contained within a soul - instead flow freely through their metaphysical being, contained by an imperfect barrier. When their being is destroyed, their entire identity goes with them.

Now, however, when an angel or demon dies, their body becomes a shell that is able to continue carrying their identity - in other words, a pseudo-soul. This is what is being stored in the Empty. For no good reason that Michael can see.

He doesn’t like it. Michael is a firm believer in letting the dead rest in peace. He balks even in raising humans up from Heaven and Hell; he had approved as much was necessary for Father’s plan during the Apocalypse, believing that Father wanted what was best for everyone, and… well. Look at what happened to Adam.

His main concern is that his  _ brothers’  _ graces, could, conceivably, also form this pseudo-soul shell and be sent to the Empty, memories and thoughts and all. Clones of his brothers being formed upon death, essentially. And perhaps Helael’s essence has been trapped within their own shell, and doomed to the Empty as well. Michael doesn’t know how to confirm  _ this  _ theory, though. Killing demons and observing what happens next is easy enough. Michael suspects he will have to actually enter the Empty to see if his brothers’ pseudo-souls are real or not.

He does know that Lucifer’s old vessel tried to resurrect him a year ago. And he knows that it was supposedly from the Empty. And that he was nearly successful. So…

He realises that Adam has been calling out his name for the last twenty minutes, and climbing up his body for the last five. He gently plucks Adam off and holds him cupped in his hands, smiling down at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You were totally zoning out, and you had a big frown on your face,” Adam tells him. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t thinking too hard.”

“Thinking too hard?” Michael asks. Perhaps it is time for acting rather than thinking, then. “Yes. Adam, I need to go home.”

“Home?” Adam is taken aback. “Wh - for how long? Forever?”

“No, it would be fatal to stay there for more than a short period of time.” Michael is surprised Adam doesn’t know this. The boy’s face relaxes.

“You don’t mean Heaven,” he guesses.

“No, of course not. I refer to my birthplace. The Core.”

“Yeah, okay,” Adam says cheerfully. “When are we going?”

This gives Michael pause. “I was intending to go immediately. If you want to come with me,” he hesitates. Adam wants to come, and he detests saying no to Adam. “I will have to place you deep within my heart to keep you safe. It’s very dangerous there.”

“That’s fine.”

“So much so that you would very much not be conscious,” Michael elucidates.

“Yeah, I got it.” Adam is starting to sound impatient.

Michael cannot fathom why Adam would want to come if he will not even be able to witness anything.

“You haven’t even asked me why I’m going there,” he says.

Adam grins. “I’m expecting something incomprehensible like, ‘the threads of the universe are starting to unravel’.”

“Nothing like that. They are always unravelling, so that’s no issue. I’m looking for the Empty. I should be able to locate it from the Core.”

“That’s the angel afterlife, right?” Adam asks, face scrunching up. “You don’t know where it is? That’s a bit of a surprise.”

“It’s new,” Michael explains. “Father must have created it while I was trapped in the Cage.”

“Why would he do that?” Adam says, searching Michael’s eyes curiously.

“Most likely, to make it easier to remove and add angels and demons from His… story… as He pleases.” It’s difficult for Michael to admit, but with everything he knows now, it seems the probable answer. “He doesn’t have to recreate them from scratch. Simply remove them from storage.” The air and the ground are vibrating around them.

“You okay?” Adam asks softly.

“People are people. Not objects.” How can anyone think differently? Michael recalls the horror of when he had finally returned to Heaven after a decade in the Cage to find that it had been completely reorganised, the humans ripped out of their overlapping bubbles of paradise and filed away neatly in alphabetical order instead. After they had devoted so much time and energy into keeping the humans happy. And yet-

“Hey,” Adam says. “I can’t hear what you’re thinking if you don’t say it out loud.”

Oh. He blinks down at him. “It’s all the same, isn’t it? Heaven, Hell, even Purgatory - they - maybe they shouldn’t - if Father made them for the wrong reasons - maybe they shouldn’t exist.”

“Maybe,” Adam says seriously. “Or maybe we can fix them so they  _ can’t  _ be used for the wrong reasons.” He pats Michael on the hand next to where he’s sitting. “But we should think about that after you sort out this Empty business. No point getting mixed up, is there?” 

Michael is grateful for the kind reprieve. He is well aware that  _ Adam  _ can handle multiple things at once just fine. When Michael tries to be anything but single-minded, things get messy, fast.

“You’re right. Thanks, Adam. I will head to the Core, then.” He strokes Adam’s hair. “I will reawaken you once we are in safe waters.”

“Yeah, sure,” Adam says.

Taking that as consent, Michael pulls Adam right inside his core, into the heart of his own essence. It’s deeper than he’s ever contained him - he usually just wraps Adam in his grace, but Michael does not know if he can trust his grace right now. With that thought in mind, he quickly severs his bond with Father. At this point, it’s weathered and frayed from millennia of neglect, and Father will probably not even notice, but Michael would rather not have a way for Father to easily track him down. 

He journeys to the Core, flitting through dimensions like he’s dashing across stepping stones, making his way around the great spiral of the universe until he has descended to the bottom, the stem, the origin.

Not many places can make Michael feel small, but as he slips into God’s original workshop, footsteps echoing on a hard floor that stretches across light years, avoiding pillars of flame and light that reach up and spread into the cosmos, he is a child again.

The pillars are plentiful, and they are scorching. They warp near his presence, flickering towards and away from him at random. If they pass through him, Michael can survive it, but he worries the soul hidden inside him will not. He keeps a careful distance.

Michael doesn’t need anything in the workshop - it simply serves as a useful vantage point. If Father made the Empty, He would have built it here, and flung it out into the universe above. He approaches the Wellspring of Life in the centre - a monument larger than Michael from which Father produces His Light - and climbs to the top. He resists the urge to spread his wings and fly to the top. He’d rather not have them burn off.

Michael sits on the edge of the well, feeling younger and younger. He would sit in this exact spot, beaming in wonder as Father showed him the magical things He could do with His Light. Michael had been so happy. The endless friction between Dark and Light had been getting boring, after all.

He raises his heads to the cosmos above and  _ looks _ . It’s been a long time since he’s been down here - Father doesn’t approve of them coming down unsupervised, and He Himself rarely has cause to visit - and the view has changed greatly. Heaven and Earth have long been there - although the great Space containing Earth has had different names and different focal worlds in its eons of existence - Purgatory, too, is ancient; the newer ones are Hell and Avalon. And then, closer in the spiral, is an even newer one that Michael doesn’t recognise. It certainly does look  _ empty,  _ like a great hole in the universe. 

But he is further concerned by the shape of the closest part of the spiral. Where more recent realms would have been created. As if Father had been making realms of various sizes, but deleted them from existence soon after.

To be born and die again within a few years… how sad. Michael only allows himself to ponder the fate of worlds for a moment; as Adam has said, he must not become mixed-up. He takes note of the Empty’s position in the universe - although the realms look expansive from here, they each occupy a highly specific frequency that is difficult to navigate to if there’s no routes established, so Michael will have to carve his own path out to it. 

The Wellspring has started producing irregular spurts of Light. Michael gazes at it for a moment, before turning his attention to the rest of the room. The pillars of light he went closest to are still shifting around, some of them quite wildly.

Perhaps untethering himself from Father was a bad idea. He takes a moment to concentrate and attempt to rein himself in.  _ You did not come here to sow the seeds of Discord. _

He slips out of the workshop, the pillars less reactive to his presence, and travels to the Empty. It is difficult. This is not a realm that Father wanted angels to fly to. But Michael often does things that Father does not want him to do. Usually unintentionally. With the location clear in his mind, and the pin-point accuracy of a billion year old soldier, Michael navigates a path to the Empty, wraps himself in Darkness and slips inside.

###  **iii.**

This place is cluttered. Absolutely full of angels and demons, so densely packed that they’re overlapping with one another. The construction of this realm is strange, however, and the physicality of the pseudo-souls do not match the physicality of the extant dimensions. Most of the souls are dormant, so this is not an issue. However, some of the souls appear to have woken up, and they are jostling around in fear. They are only able to perceive their awakened brothers, so they are not yet cognisant of the fact that they are packed in like rats.

Michael must have caught the Empty at a bad time. More and more souls are waking up, and cracks of light are appearing all over. He’s mostly sure it’s not his own doing. He can’t see his brothers amongst the rabble, so he heads deeper inside.

The souls go from packed to extraordinarily sparse. Some kind of solitary, he imagines; he sees powerful demons and angels here. Knights of Hell, and Seraphim commanders. And Castiel. He’s a little irritated that the malakh has managed to die by someone else’s hands.  _ Awaken _ . He sends the message deep into the dormant soul before quickly continuing on his path. Castiel will suffer one way or the other.

He finds his brothers’ shells a vast distance from the other pseudo-souls in here. They have clearly been placed carefully together, all dormant, with a great deal of seals protecting them. Did the master of this realm do it, or was it Father? But if Father would go to that length for their shells, surely He would not have left Gabriel and Raphael on their own in the void, Michael figures. In that case, it was probably the Empty’s master, and Michael is free to take his brothers without triggering Father’s attention.

He undoes the seals from afar, unwilling to touch them physically and accidentally alert anyone. As soon as the first few seals are removed, the shells start stirring and making noise already. Michael immediately understands why they were put under lock and key. How annoying.

He checks his person for something to put them in before he continues any further. He’s got some vials. That’ll do. He draws as many wards on them as will fit and shoves his brothers’ shells into one each as he undoes the rest of the seals. His brothers try to escape, clearly recognising their reaper, but Michael calmly prevents any exit and crams them into the vials.

The strange blankness of this place continuously trying to slide over him is very offputting, and Michael is tempted to just make his exit from here; however, he backtracks back to where the last souls he saw were so it’s a  _ little  _ less obvious what the intruder was doing,  _ if _ his paths in and out of the place are detected.

He squeezes his way out of the Empty with little difficulty. This place is not designed to trap a  _ whole  _ archangel, after all. He leaps through the dimensions to get back to Earth, and immediately realises something is wrong. 

There’s a depletion of life.

There’s not  _ no  _ life; archaea, bacteria, and non-animalia eukarya still abound. But the animals are gone.

It doesn’t seem like too much time has passed. Michael did go down to Father’s workshop, where time slows to a crawl compared to the higher dimensions, so he’s probably been gone for a lot longer on Earth than he has actually experienced. But the absence of all animal life is simply inexplicable with the mere passage of time.

There are some survivors on Earth, easily detected: aside from Adam, they’re the only souls in this entire realm. Michael flies to their location and is immediately glad he is still cloaked; he lands behind his Father and a woman, cloaked to the mortals but not to each other. And, by extension, Michael.

The mortals are Adam’s half-brothers and some kind of abomination. So this is a continuation of Father’s deranged games. Michael pays them no mind, however. He is distracted by Father’s companion.  _ Helael _ .

So, she is not trapped in her shell. Michael touches the three vials around his neck. Still, he won’t consider it a wasted trip. How dangerous, how reckless it would have been to leave his brothers’ memories there. Did Father separate Helael from her old shell before it died, or did He resurrect her  _ after  _ death somehow, without using her old shell? It must be the former, Michael thinks.

Father uncloaks, revealing Himself to one of the mortals to give him a wave and a smile, before leaving. Helael flies after him an instant later, and Michael makes the reluctant decision to follow them from a distance. 

They reconvene at a country club, lounging in a huge room that just looks sad when devoid of people like this. Michael wraps himself in even more Light and Dark and hides in a corner of the room. He did not come here to confront Father and Helael, merely to ascertain what is going on.

Helael is politely waiting for Father to speak. Father Himself is staring into the distance, His face carefully blank. Finally, He says:

“I need you to go to the Winchesters and help them with the book.” He sighs quite drearily.

“Me?” Helael asks carefully. “Weren’t you going to arrange for Michael to do that?”

“He went AWOL just before the Rapture. It’ll have to be you.” Father taps His fingers on the arm of the chair with barely hidden rage. Oh dear. Michael has accidentally gotten himself in trouble with Father. For a completely different reason than what he would have imagined.

“AWOL…?” Helael says quietly. “Don’t tell me he’s gone off his leash?”

Father doesn’t answer.

“Father, if Michael has set himself loose on the universe, surely that’s a far greater priority than playing with your pets?”

Michael is embarrassed. He wouldn’t have come eavesdrop if he knew he himself would be the sole topic of conversation.

“Yes, which is why you’ll be taking care of them while I go look for him,” Father says sternly. Helael looks down, ostensibly ashamed.

“Yes, Father.”

Father stands up. “Don’t mess up,” He warns, before leaving. Helael looks thoughtful for a while before leaving as well. Michael follows his sister, and she lands in an expensive clothing boutique. Michael lands in front of her, removing some of his cloak. 

“Hello,” Helael says, not at all surprised. “Were you watching us?”

“Yes,” Michael says. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. Where did all the humans go?”

“Father got rid of them all. We don’t need them any more. It’s time for the grand denouement of humanity.” Helael’s voice is neutral as she says this. No glee evident. Strange.

“Father removed you from your old grace,” Michael notes. “Did He allow you to retain your memories?”

“Apparently I was terribly corrupt by the time I died,” Helael says. “He’s given me recent memories only. The last 300,000 years or so.”

“Oh,” says Michael. “None of our nice memories are from that time.” 

“Correct. I can only remember being a conniving evil bastard. A punishment on Father’s part, I imagine.” She makes a face. “Are there any ‘nice’ ones in particular you think I should remember?”

“There are many,” says Michael, thinking. All of Helael’s old memories should be stored in the ‘Lucifer’ shell. Should Michael return them, or would Helael become corrupt again?

“Like what?” Helael prompts him.

“Er,” says Michael, feeling put on the spot. “You spent many hours teaching Gabriel to sing, suffering through his caterwaul for the sake of the choir. That, I think, is worth remembering.”

She laughs. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. How very  _ natural  _ of you, brother.”

They are drifting towards each other. Helael could control it, but she is clearly enjoying this reunion.

“Will you join with Father and I, Michael?” she asks. “Father is terribly upset that you’ve untethered yourself, I believe.”

“My goals differ from His,” Michael admits. Adam will not be happy when he wakes up and realises his entire species has been eradicated, after all.

They are nearly nose-to-nose now. Annoyed, Michael flies across to the other side of the room, well beyond Helael’s back. She spins to face him, disappointment written on her face.

“Gabriel and Raphael,” he says. “Has Father resurrected them as well?”

“No,” she says. “They have already begun regenerating in the Outside.”

Michael knows  _ that.  _ Perhaps it means they are safe from Father’s intrusive fingers. Or perhaps it is a meaningless statement, and Michael needs to retrieve his brothers  _ now _ .

“What is Father doing with the remaining humans?” he asks.

“Oh, I don’t know. Toying with them, I suppose.”

Michael leaves. He is not interested in being stonewalled by his sister.

Alone in the boutique, Helael raises her fingers to her mouth as it curves into an amused smile. Tethered Michael had never behaved so erratically. How fun.

###  **iv.**

Michael flies to a small moon in a neighbouring planetary system and, after cloaking the area from detection, pulls Adam’s soul out of his core, reawakening him.

“Adam?” he asks gently.

“Michael?” Adam is groggy, still stirring. “Uhh. Oh yeah, how did it go?”

“I have good news and bad news,” Michael says.

“You found them but you couldn’t get them out?” Adam guesses.

“No. My family is safe and sound. I have retrieved all three shells, and it turns out Helael had actually already been extracted from her shell before it died.” As far as Michael can tell.

“Okay…” Adam says slowly. “So the bad news is…?”

“While I was sorting them out, it appears Father purged all of humanity in the meantime.”

Adam doesn’t respond as he processes this, before his soul starts curling on itself with dread.

“Purged as in?”

“Removed from Earth. I do not know if they were sent to an afterlife or simply deleted.”

“He waited until your back was turned to do it?”

“I don’t think so. It seems it was just a coincidence. Poor timing on my part. I wasn’t available to play whatever role Father had in mind for me.”

“Good. Fuck him,” Adam says absentmindedly. “How do we bring them back?”

“Bring who back?”

“Humanity.” Adam uncoils a bit, recurling around Michael’s grace. “Come on. What’s the plan?”

“Hmm. Truthfully I hadn’t thought about it.” Michael hums some more, enjoying the way it makes Adam’s soul vibrate and jostle against his grace. “If Father has simply relocated them, we just need to identify where they are and bring them back. If He has destroyed them, only the reversal of time would work. I don’t want to mess with time.”

“I know,” Adam says comfortingly, nuzzling him.

“But in either case I can’t imagine Father would not then seek to immediately undo our efforts. It seems a fools’ errand.”

“So we deal with your dad first.”

“ **No** ,” Michael says. He had drawn up this boundary eleven months ago, and Adam had promised to respect it. “No ‘dealing with’ Father. He’s become too deranged. Who knows what he’ll do to us.”

“Michael-”

“You promised to respect my boundary,” Michael says.

Adam withdraws from him, exasperated. “I’m not asking you to go yell at your dad, okay? I know you can’t do that and it would just make things worse. I get it. But there’s gotta be a way to work around him. I gotta say, this giving up before we start attitude isn’t very sexy of you.”

“Oh,” Michael says, hurt. He does his best to be sexy at all times. And furthermore, he knows Adam is only using a joking kind of insult to mask the real anger within.

“Very well,” Michael says, straightening up and spreading his wings. “To Earth, then.”

“Earth?” Michael takes off. “Wait, Michael, what are you doing? Do you have a plan?”

“I’m tired of plans,” Michael declares. “I wish to act.”

**“** You’re tired of  _ plans _ ? Michael, what? I’m sorry if I upset you but you’re acting really weird right now-”

Michael enters the Earth’s atmosphere and scans the planet below for life. The Winchesters, in their little underground prison, of course. With them the abomination and - Helael - but -

He heads there immediately, landing in front of his brother with barely concealed anger flowing through his veins. “Why are you impersonating Adam,” he says shortly.

Helael, wearing Adam’s face and the same clothes Michael and Adam had been stuck in for ten years, barely reacts, his eyes slowly searching Michael’s face. He was always the most dignified of them, so his composure is natural.

“I’m not impersonating ‘Adam’, you moron,” he says with disbelief. “I’m impersonating you.”

“Adam hasn’t given you permission to wear his face. You could have impersonated me by looking like literally anyone and claiming I found a new vessel,” Michael points out. 

“That would be a difficult sell, given how lovey-dovey you were acting with him,” Helael murmurs.

“Change your face before I disfigure it.”

Helael holds up his hands. “Fine, fine.” His grace ripples across his vessel and transforms it into an older blonde man. One of his previous vessels, Michael thinks.

“Wait -  _ Lucifer?”  _ the shorter Winchester brother says in shock. Both Michael and Helael turn to survey the mortals, who have backed off since Michael’s entrance to the other side of the room. The taller brother and the abomination look horrified, while the shorter one just looks angry.

“Sam and Dean,” Adam says, trying to roll his eyes but Michael presently has firm control over the vessel. “Did you really forget their names?”

“They’re not important,” Michael tells him, turning back to Helael. If he remembered the name of every mortal he’d ever met, he wouldn’t have any space in his mind to remember anything else. Although, they are important to Father. An amusing idea occurs to Michael.

“Father wants you to withdraw for now,” he says, injecting a commanding officer’s tone into his voice. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“Oh?” says Helael. He stared at him curiously.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks him.

“Bluffing,” Michael explains.

“I think he knows you’re lying.”

“He does. But now he’s put on the spot. In chess, you know your opponent’s goal is to trap your king. You’re not trying to figure that out, you’re trying to work out their path and stop them. Psychological warfare works the same way. We’re trying to throw Father’s story off enough that he will be too distracted to stop us rescuing the rest of humanity.”

“Um, okay,” Adam says. 

The silence has stretched on a little too much for the humans to bear. “What the hell’s going on?” Sam (“That one’s Dean,” Adam mutters) barks at them. “You’re both working for Chuck? Seriously?”

“Of course,” Michael says. Helael is very carefully trying not to show how hard he’s thinking right now.

“Unfortunately, Michael, I’ve decided to go rogue,” he announces eventually, sweeping his arms out in a grand flourish. “I couldn’t really stomach working for Dad anymore. Not after everything he’s done to me. To us,” he adds mischievously.

“I see,” Michael says. “Well, I must admit I find that hard to believe.” He smiles.

There’s a book of Death lying on the table right in front of him. Are they intending to read it? That’s highly irresponsible. He relocates it to his hands and vanishes with it, heading to Death’s library.

“What - are we done messing with them?” Adam sounds exhausted, for some reason.

“What’s wrong?” Michael says. He examines the book in his hands. This is Father’s death book.

“You! You’re the slowest, most measured dude I know, and now you’re being all impulsive and hyperactive! Did you have angel crack before you woke me up or something?”

“No,” Michael says, heading to the correct section of the library to return the book. “I am as normal as ever.”

“Seriously, there’s something wrong,” Adam says, almost pleading. “Can we just chill for a second and work this out?”

Michael puts the book back in its place and turns to check out the rest of the library. There are a lot of reaper’s corpses strewn about for some reason. “This place needs better security,” he observes. “What on earth is Death doing?”

These books are not supposed to be read. They contain the  _ future _ . Once you read the future, you set it in stone. Having even a single part of the future made immutable can seriously destabilise all of time and space.

Michael can’t destroy the books, though. The future has to exist somewhere. Death doesn’t seem to be around, so he conjures physical and metaphysical barriers over all of the bookcases, preventing further theft and malpractice.

“Hopefully that will do for now,” Michael announces. “Of course if Father really wants them to read that book, He’s able to walk in here and smash through my barriers. But will that work for His  _ story? _ ”

No response from Adam. Michael puts a hand on his chest and reaches in to check on his vessel’s soul. He feels highly, intensely stressed.

“Adam?” Michael asks.

Adam shrivels away from his touch. “Stop ignoring me. You know I hate that.”

“Of course,” Michael says. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“Is this your dad? Is he making you crazy or something to spice up his story?”

“No.” Ah. “Actually, I cut myself off from Father before I went to the Core, to escape detection. That may be having an effect on my behaviour,” Michael admits.

“What kind of effect?” Adam says dubiously. 

“As you may remember, Father created me in the beginning by combining the disorder in the universe with his Light. Through my bond with Father, he helps control my disorderliness. Since I have severed that bond, I suppose it is possible I have been acting more erratically without realising.”

“It’s  _ possible _ . Right.” 

“I’m sorry,” Michael says. “Of course I trust your judgment. I accept I am acting strangely as you say.”

Helael had mentioned something about his nature, Michael recalls. He must have noticed Michael was acting off just as quickly as Adam had. Michael had thought his lack of control only had an external effect, like on the pillars in the Core.

“Okay. Well, my judgment is you should sit down and work on getting your control back before you go and do anything else stupid,” Adam advises. 

“I haven’t done anything stupid,” Michael protests. “In fact, being crazy is probably giving us an edge against Father.”

“I don’t care,” Adam says. “The way that you’re acting right now isn’t you. It’s scary.”

“Oh,” Michael says. He doesn’t want that. He glances around the library. This is probably as safe a place as possible to get a hold of himself. It’s not exactly a public library, so the only place to sit down is at Death’s desk in the centre.

He sits there, and tries to sharpen his mind. Concentrate. Meditate. It’s been some time since he’s had to actively rein in his power. It feels a little childish.

“You don’t need to rein it in,” Adam says.

Michael is puzzled. “That’s contrary to what you just told me, beloved.”

“No, I said you should get your control back. You’re the prince of discipline, aren’t you?”

Michael smiles at the compliment, but: “How can I possibly increase my control without decreasing my disorder?”

“Well, this is what I think,” Adam says, but he doesn’t continue. Hesitant to express a not fully informed opinion, Michael suspects.

“Do go on. Please,” he urges.

“You say you were made from disorder, but… doesn’t that really just mean the entire spectrum of order? Disorder just happened first; there can’t be order without chaos.”

He pauses, waiting for a response.

“Yes, your logic is sound,” Michael says patiently.

“Maybe your dad wasn’t suppressing you so much as keeping you at the safer end of the spectrum. So you don’t need to tone yourself down, just work on keeping yourself on the orderly side without your dad’s help. If anyone can do it, you can.”

Michael beams at the praise. “Oh. Thank you.”

“And then you can let loose if need be,” Adam suggests, although he doesn’t sound particularly thrilled at the idea.

“I shall keep it in mind,” Michael promises, and returns to his meditations.

###  **v.**

There is a scattering in his core that he can’t control. It pushes out and in to an uneven rhythm. He tries to slow it down, to stop, but it’s like holding in his breathing. Eventually he has to release and let his essence get messed up again.

Adam believes in him though. So he keeps trying.

Perhaps his thinking is wrong. He tries to control the speed of the pulses once again, this time trying to maintain a steady rhythm. This is more successful, but still, with every pulse he feels himself scattering, inside and out.

Can he pulse without scattering? Or perhaps, does he need to scatter and control the results?

“How’s it going?” Adam says all of a sudden.

“I’ve made some progress, but I can’t really work out how to do as you suggested,” Michael tells him.

“Cool, cool. Uh, someone’s here.”

Alarmed, Michael reawakens his physical awareness and sees an elderly figure in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts staring down at him from across the desk.

“Hello, Uncle,” Michael says politely, quickly rising out of the chair.

“So. Now Elohim sends his brats to invade even this place?” Mot intones with great displeasure. 

“Apologies. I came to return a death book I found in the mortal world,” Michael explains.

Mot turns and gives a pointed look to the bodies strewn about the place. “ _ Really _ .”

“It was like this when I got here,” Michael says, well aware there’s no reason for his uncle to believe him. 

“I see,” Mot says coldly. “Where is the current Death? Billie.”

“I don’t know,” Michael says. “I haven’t met her.”

“Hmm.” He looks around at the shelves now. “She’s walled up all the books.”

“That was me,” Michael says. “Since people are clearly trying to read them. It’s dangerous.”

“It is dangerous,” Mot agrees reluctantly. “You were always the sensible one, weren’t you?”

Michael wants to take that as a compliment, but there’s something sinister hidden in it.

“What book was taken?” 

“Father’s,” Michael answers. “I returned it to the immortals section. Was that correct?”

“It will do,” his uncle says. “Now, tell me what your father is up to. I didn’t particularly enjoy having my vacation interrupted by all my reapers dying at once.”

“Oh,” Michael says. It didn’t even occur to him that reapers were included among those removed from Earth. How bold of Father to purge creatures that weren’t His.

“I’ve cut myself off from Father, and I’m not privy to His plans,” Michael disclaims, “But to the best of my knowledge, Father has purged the mortal realm in order to set up a new one. He is just toying with His favourite mortals first before He wraps everything up.”

“The Winchesters,” Mot clarifies. “And that nephil.”

“Yes.” Had it been a nephil? A strangely shaped one if so, although Michael didn’t get a good look at it.

“Dean Winchester swung my scythe at this reaper,” Mot says, indicating his vessel. “It was a good one. I am displeased.”

“He was likely under Father’s control at the time,” Michael says. He had heard about that. 

“I am aware,” Mot says, stone-cold. “I was possessing it when it was murdered. I know exactly where to direct my anger.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Michael says. 

“Is he gonna beat our ass cause he’s mad at your dad?” Adam asks. A fair question.

“Uncle, if you intend to punish me, please allow me to separate from my vessel first. It was not by his will that we intruded in here.”

“That’s not really what I was going for,” Adam protests, as Mot peers at him closely. 

“You came in here to return a stolen book. I will not punish you for that. I do wonder why you chose to nap at my desk, though.”

“I wasn’t napping. After I cut myself off from Father, I lost some control over my abilities. Since no one was here, I thought it would be a good place to self-discipline.”

Michael has been slowly edging his way around the desk, and now, he thinks, he has a clear route to the exit.

“I see. And why did you cut yourself off, if it would cause such a headache?”

“For unrelated reasons,” Michael says, embarrassed. “The timing was a coincidence. Please excuse me Uncle, I -”

It doesn’t escape Michael’s attention when the world shifts and the library they’re standing in is suddenly adrift, cut off from the rest of space and time. He immediately stiffens and subtly moves into a warrior’s stance. He would rather not fight his uncle, but would act in self-defence if it came to it.

“Do stay,” Mot says. “It would be best if we allied ourselves, rather than try to take your father on individually.”

“I don’t want to take Father on,” Michael says tiredly. “I just want the humans back and for Him to stop pretending to be evil.”

“When your goals are so directly opposed, you have no choice but to be in conflict,” Uncle tells him, and he sounds almost gentle. “I will help you return the humans. But Elohim will certainly get in the way of that, so he must be dealt with. I require your co-operation.”

“And what do you want?” Michael asks suspiciously. Mot has stayed neutral in every war of Father’s up until now, including when they sealed away the Darkness. 

“I seek stability,” Mot says. “I was under the impression you were a like-minded individual.”

“That’s a poor judgment. I think I might be the most unstable person in the universe.” Michael rubs his head. “What do you think?” he asks Adam internally.

“I think he’s genuine. And, uh, you and me alone against the universe is romantic, but probably not smart. We could use the help.”

Mot examines his face carefully. “Who speaks to you?”

“My vessel. Adam.” Michael is loath to go against Adam’s opinion, even though he’s still not sure about his uncle. “Very well. An alliance.”


	2. Chapter 2

###  **vi.**

They consolidate what information they have. Michael shares what he overheard Helael and Father talking about, and his conversations with Helael following. Uncle wonders if allying with Helael is also a possibility, although he obviously finds the thought distasteful. “I don’t think so,” Michael says sadly. “Father has him on a tight leash, for one. For two, getting rid of humanity and starting the universe over is exactly what he wants.”

“What he wanted,” Mot amends. “He has been reborn.”

“Reborn is stretching it. According to Helael himself, Father restored him with his memories of the last three hundred millennia. All of his human-hating memories.”

“That seems odd.”

“Hardly. Father wanted to keep a ‘character’. He doesn’t care about Helael himself.”

Mot accepts his judgment on his own brother, and doesn’t question him further. Michael doesn’t mention that he retrieved Gabriel, Raphael and Lucifer’s shells from the Empty. He would rather not put the younger ones in danger by making them seem available, and Lucifer’s shell is an ace he’d rather keep up his sleeve.

It’s dangerous for Michael to move around at the moment, as Father had stated He was actively going to look for him, so Mot keeps an eye on the other major players on the board as well, the Winchesters and Jack the Nephil. Apparently now that Michael’s taken the death book “on Father’s behalf”, Helael has them looking for a way to kill Father in some kind of cursed book called The Book of the Damned.

“Why does Father want them to try and kill Him so bad?” Michael muses. “He’s not… you don’t think…”

Uncle waits patiently.

“He’s suicidal?” Michael finishes the thought, but it seems stupid said out loud.

“Hardly. I suspect the thrilling conclusion to his story is that man kills God and ends the universe as a result. This is just a way to pin the blame on them.”

Michael is not convinced, and Mot quirks an eyebrow at him.

“I’m surprised you’re taking his actions at surface-level. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I don’t think Father’s bizarre actions are due to Him being some malevolent mastermind. I think Father is suffering from some kind of mental illness. I have to consider the worst possibilities of that.”

“You still care about him,” Mot says, mystified.

“Of course. He’s my Father.”

His uncle looks down politely. “I suppose that’s admirable, even if I don’t agree with it.”

Michael can feel Adam bristling against him. Now there’s someone who  _ definitely  _ doesn’t agree with it. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells him. “I’m weak.”

“It’s not weak,” Adam says, sighing. “It’s the opposite. It’s just… ugh. You deserve better than him.”

“My beliefs are that he has them cast something that looks like it could really kill him, pretends to die, begins dissolving the universe as they look around in horror and realise what they’ve done. One final mistake. The hubris of man,” Mot speculates. “We will need to act before then.”

“Act how?”

“Killing him is out of the question, unfortunately. Our options are seal him away or put him to sleep.”

“Sealing Him away now is borderline impossible, now that He has merged with Amara,” Michael points out. “The space half of space-time would be practically non-functional.”

“Indeed. We’ll have to put him to sleep. I’ve jotted down some ideas for spells, why don’t you have a look and tell me which ones you think have a chance of working.” He pushes some papers towards Michael’s side of the desk, but Adam pipes up.

“Uhh, I have a question.”

“Er. Very well.” Michael recedes and allows Adam to take control for a moment. He can seize the body instantly if need be.

“Um,” Adam says, and Mot narrows his eyes, immediately hearing the change in voice. “Sam and Dean  _ know  _ that killing God will end the world. That’s why they asked us for a way to seal him in the first place. Why would they change their mind and decide to kill him at the last second?”

“From their perspective, the world has already ended,” Mot says thoughtfully. “And when humans are desperate enough, they can be pushed to do anything. You’ve had the same, haven’t you?”

Adam hesitates. “What do you mean?”

“You agreed to become Michael’s vessel because of the Apocalypse, didn’t you? Even after he used you in a trap. Because he made you think there was no other choice.”

“Uhh,” Adam says, laughing from sheer bewilderment. “That’s an interesting summary. I’d say you got about 33% right.”

“Oh? What happened, then?”

“That’s between me and Michael,” Adam says firmly, shaking his head.

Uncle’s mouth curves up into the slightest smile. “I see. I will respect your privacy.”

“Both you and Father may be underestimating the Winchesters,” Michael says as he regains control. “Is what I suspect he meant to say. They may throw us another curveball.”

“I said that perfectly fine,” Adam protests. “Stop translating.”

“That’s true, I suppose, but if we accomplish our goal of putting Elohim to sleep I can’t see why they would get in our way.”

“The getting in our way would occur prior,” Michael says.

“True. Well, I’ll keep an eye out.”

Michael can’t figure out his uncle. He’s never spent any time with him before now, as Mot always stayed well away from Michael’s family. And yet this is someone Michael would willingly be with: calm, considerate, wise. It makes him nervous. This is some kind of trap, isn’t it?

“I don’t think there’s any trap here,” Adam advises. “Think of the kind of person that would go out of his way to avoid your family’s brand of drama. I don’t think he’s so strange.”

Michael is hurt by the insinuation, and doesn’t respond.

It’s a little bit later, as Michael is scribbling down ideas on how to strengthen the accuracy of the spell, when the penny drops. “You will need to lead the assault, while I strike from behind,” Mot says, leaning on the desk.

“Elohim is already fully aware you’re up to something. I believe we can maintain the element of surprise if we play into his suspicions.” Michael continues brainstorming.

“Surely Father will know it’s a feint. He knows I would never move against him so aggressively.”

Mot speaks with a heavy tone as he says, “I don’t think your father knows you as well as you think he does.”

A hot flush rises unbidden to Michael’s cheeks, and he loses control of the pulses for just a moment. The papers on the desk are flung about the room as Michael’s essence scatters wildly.

“Apologies, Uncle. I…” Michael trails off, unable to find an excuse for this latest bout of incompetence. Mot simply commands the papers back onto the desk. They are at the heart of his domain, after all.

“Michael,” says Mot, and Michael braces himself for disappointed chiding. “Why do you call me your uncle?”

“Hmm?” says Michael, taken aback. “You are Father’s brother, are you not?”

“I am not.” He eyes Michael curiously. “Did he tell you I am?”

Father has never once discussed Mot with Michael, but Michael has heard Him muttering curse words at him in passing. “No. An assumption on my part,” Michael admits, “As you seemed to be the same age and size. Sorry, er, Mot.” Michael feels uncomfortable addressing a superior being by its name, but it seems to be what Mot wants. 

He continues to examine Michael. “‘Uncle’ is fine. As long as you remember I am not Elohim’s kin.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Michael says gratefully. He grips the vials stuffed with his brothers’ shells that are hung around his neck. His  _ kin. _

“Your plan puts me in danger,” he observes quietly. “Father may strike me down before the spell is complete.”

“Sacrificing you is not my intention.” Mot looks away. “Elohim is very powerful at present. Unfortunately, we must take risks.”

“I’m aware,” Michael says. “If I die, I will be reborn. That is not a concern to me.”

“It’s  _ not? _ ” Adam asks. Michael embraces him tenderly. 

“I have no desire to leave you,” he promises. To his uncle, he continues: “I do have an errand that must be undertaken beforehand, in case I am reduced to my essence.”

“I see,” Mot says slowly. “This errand being…?”

This is Michael’s business and Michael’s alone. He would rather keep it to himself. A foolish ideal, he chides himself. What a disrespectful way to treat our only ally.

“I have to attend to my brothers in the Outside,” he says. 

“Again? Why?” Adam asks.

Mot is displeased. “If you go there, Elohim will easily find you.”

“I know.” Michael clasps his hands together. “This won’t help with the Father issue at all. But He is not the center of my universe. I have other wrongs to right.”

He needs to return his brothers’ shells to them. It is not Michael’s right to decide to keep them from them. Even if he thinks they truly would be happier starting off fresh.

“You’ve been thinking about this,” Adam says, amazed.

Mot also clasps his hands together, in what Michael would hope is an unconscious imitation of his own gesture rather than a deliberate mockery. “I see. Well, I wasn’t expecting this. I hope you will at least assist in finalising the spell before you go run off and get captured by your father.”

“Yes, of course,” Michael says quickly, not bothering to argue the latter half. He knows he must look  _ terribly  _ stupid to Mot right now.

“You don’t look stupid,” Adam says reassuringly. 

“I’m surprised you’re not mad at me,” Michael tells him. “Uncle is right. Father will almost certainly capture me.”

“Oh, I’m mad, and I think your priorities are wrong,” Adam replies cheerfully. “But you also just said your dad isn’t the center of your universe, which is a big step for you. So I’m trying to be supportive.”

“We are all the main characters of our own stories,” Michael quotes. “Father’s has gotten too repetitive for me.”

Adam laughs.

###  **vii.**

The spell is completed, and has a good chance of working. It would be ideal if all four archangels were available to focus it, with Mot providing the base.

“Instead you are dead-set on leaving me with zero archangels, instead of one,” Mot says drily.

“Father may not find me,” Michael says firmly. It’s a ridiculous argument. They both know He will.

Michael releases Adam from his grasp, and physically leaves his vessel. He floats above Mot and Adam both, not truly wishing to depart.

“What are you doing?” Adam says, bewildered. “I need to anchor you-”

“I will be travelling to the Outside in a very physical sense,” Michael says heavily. “If I projected from here and Father caught me, he will catch on to our alliance.”

“Which would completely ruin us,” Mot agrees. “This is best.”

“Please keep Adam safe,” Michael entreats his uncle. Until he gets back, all he can do is trust his uncle with his most important person. He can’t take Adam to the Outside, so…

“He will be safe in my domain. As would you,” Mot says, a last attempt at changing his mind.

“Thank you,” Michael says, and departs.

Even untethered to Father, it’s extremely difficult to exit His universe and enter into the void. Michael grips onto the vials and remembers his duty, and pushes through the Light that contains everything. 

He pushes, pushes, pushes, and it doesn’t give at all until it does all at once. He bursts out into the void, resisting the panic that attempts to seize him as he is flung far away from Father’s universe by sheer momentum. He spreads out all twelve wings in an effort to control his trajectory, and beats them until he is suspended in space. 

His pulses are wildy rocketing off, the rhythm completely destabilised; here, it has zero effect. There is nothing. 

Except for two little baby archangels, drawn to their brother as per usual. They flit around Michael as his uncontrolled chaos flings them from one place to another. They are undeterred and continue trying to edge closer, their infant minds unable to grasp it is not a possibility right now. 

Michael steadies himself and the pulses. He needs to return these shells before Father finds him out here, or this was a colossal waste of time. “Raphi,” he says, passing Raphael’s old shell to the ball of purple light. It sparks up as it wraps around it. “Gavi.” The smaller cloud of soft green light has more trouble holding onto the vial. 

Michael pauses here. He has not fully decided whether he should actually force the shells back onto his brothers, or allow them to take them in their own time, but as Gabriel drops the vial a second time after Michael returns it to him, he realises he doesn’t have a choice. He unseals the vial and pours the shell back into Gabriel’s essence.

Light wraps around Michael and he is yanked away from his brothers. He screeches and Gabriel, slowly coming into awareness, flees in the opposite direction while Raphael playfully and unknowingly chases after him. 

Michael struggles against his Father’s grip - he thought he’d have more time than  _ this  _ \- but Father is as firm and unyielding as ever, and easily holds onto Michael as He pulls him back into the universe. Michael is brought directly into Father’s lap, the enormous being floating in space. He’s more than three times Michael’s size now, Light  _ and  _ Dark, a terrifying combination. The two opposing elements are bulging and tearing all over Father’s body, and Michael is waiting for the friction to cause explosions any moment now. Just like in his childhood.

“Michael,” Father says, in a disappointed tone. “What on Earth do you think you’re doing? It’s dangerous Out there.”

“Father, please let me go,” Michael says, trying to wiggle out of His hands. “I want nothing to do with you.”

“Now, now,” Father says gently, and threads a new tether through Michael’s core. Or attempts to. Michael scatters himself completely on the pulse preceding, and recollects himself after the tether passes through him completely. Father is irked.

“Michael, behave,” He says, His grip tightening, but Michael is behaved. Michael is in control of Michael and scatters himself once more as Father tries to tether him again.

“Stay still,” He urges. “Are you frightened?”

“Yes,” Michael says honestly. It’s hard for him to believe that Father could be in control of both His own Light, and the Darkness He’s recently consumed. They don’t work together. Michael knows that better than anyone.

“Are you going to eat me?” he adds, the next logical conclusion.

“No,” Father says, continuing to try and tether him. “Michael, there’s no need to be nervous. You will be joining Me in My new world. All is well.”

Father doesn’t know Michael has established some control over his disorder. Michael realises. He thinks Michael is scattering because he’s scared. It’s useless information, but provides some small comfort to Michael. A pretence of freedom.

Eventually Father gives up trying to tether Michael’s core and instead threads a rather more physical leash through Michael’s grace that He anchors to Himself. 

“This will do for now,” He mutters to himself. The leash hurts when Michael tries to pull himself off of it, and Michael’s grace is mostly Light, thus directly under Father’s control. He’s well and truly trapped.

“Father, help, please,” Michael says, wincing as he tries to remove the leash. He knows well it makes no sense to ask his captor for assistance, and yet the words come spilling out of his mouth regardless.

“Michael, I am  _ trying  _ to help you,” Father sighs. “I wish you would let me.”

Father disappears and reappears them to Earth. He takes on His scrawny little man avatar again, and creates a soulless vessel to anchor Michael. Michael shapes the features into Adam’s, but feels guilty and wonders if he should wear a different face. Adam is no doubt furious with him, after all.

“Helael,” Father says, and waits. Michael looks around; this room is very white. They’re in some kind of hospital.

After a few minutes, Helael flies in. “Yes, Father?” he says, his eyes sliding over to Michael with curiosity. “You found him, then.”

“Yes. Move the plan forward - we can wrap this up today. With no surprises,” Father instructs.

“Yes, Father, but what have you done to my poor brother? He looks like he’s in pain.”

“He’s fine,” Father says irritably. “Focus on your duties.”

“Yes, Father,” Helael says. He’s acting rather demure, Michael notices. Perhaps Father lobotomised him as well. “They’re intending to cast the spell at Jack’s birthplace. That will do, won’t it?”

Father flaps a dismissive hand. Michael asks, “Jack who?”

Helael smiles at him. “My son.”

His  _ son _ ? Father has never permitted them to have children of their own. Anger begins to slip through his wall of composure. Michael would have had a thousand children by now, if it were allowed.

“Strange,” Michael says curtly. “I have been under the impression for fifteen billion years that it is forbidden for us to have  _ sons _ .”

“It is.” Father’s voice is sharp. “When I separated Helael from his corrupted grace, apparently there was enough of it to continue on as a sentient individual. It created a nephil.  _ Not  _ your son,” he emphasises at Helael.

Michael scowls in an attempt to hide his thoughts. So Helael’s shell was acting on its own before it died. Michael had assumed Father had separated them upon death, but that is clearly not the case. How strange.

Father sighs. “Lucifer, go. You’re upsetting your brother.” 

“ _ Am  _ I?” wonders Helael. He winks at Michael and departs. 

“Come,” says Father, and takes Michael to a lakeside cliff. “We will wait here.”

Michael doesn’t respond. It seems his appearance has caused an acceleration in Father’s plans. Perhaps he should have stayed longer in Mot’s domain, given him longer to prepare. Logically, however, he knows he already gave him as much as needed.

He hopes Mot is successful. Starting over in a brand new universe with just Helael and Father sounds awful. Once, perhaps, it would have been a dream come true; now he would prefer the opposite.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly. Michael has never been charismatic enough to persuade  _ anyone  _ of  _ anything _ , least of all Father; and yet, here, it seems the only route he can possibly take.

“Do what.” Father is barely even listening, Michael can hear it in His voice. It seems the gentle waters of the lake are more worthy of attention than His firstborn.

“If you want to start a new universe, there’s no need to end this one. Simply go and make it. I will take care of this one,” Michael promises. “You can return the humans and leave everything in my care.”

“No,” Father says. “I need you with me to make the new one. No distractions. And I’d rather not leave messes lying around.”

“You have Helael to assist you with the new one,” Michael points out, confused.

“Helael dies at the end of this book.”

Michael is stunned into silence by the sheer callousness of the words. So that is truly how Father views them. He squeezes his eyes shut and turns away.

“Does Helael know this?” he asks eventually.

“Of course. He is on board.” Father’s tone is perfectly flat. It shakes Michael.

“If you think I will willingly help you make a new universe, you are sorely mistaken,” says Michael. “I do not forget.”

_ And I do not forgive. _

“Then I will make you,” Father says calmly. 

Michael doesn’t respond. Can’t respond. He doesn’t know how to save his Father. He never did.

###  **viii.**

Several hours later, the A team arrives. Michael views them with disdain. Sam and Dean Winchester. For some reason, the center of Father’s universe. Michael doesn’t understand it. Even when he was supposed to be looking for Dean, to make him his vessel, his attention had kept drifting to other issues. How could such an obstinate and incurious person be of any interest?

Adam was never so dull. Michael recalls their first proper encounter; with wide eyes, the terrified boy had looked upon his true form and asked, “Why do you have so many eyes? Doesn’t it make it hard to see?”

He chuckles at the memory, but it comes out silent. Father has muted him while they watch the spell from behind a cloak. Father shoots him a stern glare and Michael feels extremely content in ignoring it.

Helael is here too, helping them with the spell, as is the nephil Jack. Michael studies him. He seems depowered, and yet there is a certain emptiness about him that Michael would find worrying. He glances at Father. Has he noticed? He seems mesmerised in his own story. How trite.

They are about to cast the spell when Father decloaks and smugly walks in, Michael in tow. Apparently when Lucifer decided to go rogue, Michael placed a bug on him so they could continue to spy on them. Or something equally silly. He rolls his eyes. Michael hopes Mot will come and put Father to sleep soon. He can’t stand much more of this melodrama.

The nephil eyes him oddly. Michael glares back, and he looks away.

Helael shouts that Father will not win this time. In response, Father shoots him with a beam of light, sending him collapsing to the ground. A show of strength, Michael supposes.

“You have failed me for the last time,” Father says coldly. “I tire of your constant disappointments.” He fires another beam, what surely must be the killing blow -

And yet Jack leaps in front of the fallen Helael and takes the beam for him.

“Oh?” Michael says, in genuine surprise. He hadn’t expected that. He can feel the hate Jack has for his not-father even now radiating off him. Father, too, is bemused; he hides it well, however.

“Monsters helping monsters,” he sneers. “That’s fine. I’ll get rid of you both, then.” He pulls his arm back in preparation to loose another attack, but pauses. Michael can see why. The first attack didn’t seem to do anything to Jack. Instead, he seems to have absorbed it.

“Stop! Stop,” a familiar voice cries out. Michael’s heart seizes as Adam runs into the field, looking as beautiful and brave as ever. 

“Adam?” Sam and Dean say in near unison, looking from him to Michael in confusion. Michael lunges towards his beloved in desperation, but Father has drawn the leash very tight and is yanked back in an uncivilised manner.

Father stalks towards the intruder. “The forgotten brother. You’re not a part of this. You’re not wanted. Ever.”

Adam wheels to face his half-brothers. “It’s a trap, don’t-”

Father snaps his fingers and Adam is disintegrated in his entirety. Michael reaches out to where the human was standing but Father is already dragging him away to the other side of the cliff.

Adam. Why is Adam gone? So fast. He came out of nowhere and Michael couldn’t protect him. Too incompetent. Too slow.

“You’re not slow,” Adam had said once. “You just have a longer stride than the rest of us.”

It didn’t really make sense as a metaphor, but Michael had appreciated the sentiment. Perhaps this step has gone on long enough, and it’s time to put his foot down.

Helael decides to make a move, and throws himself towards Father, begging for forgiveness, to be allowed on his side once more. Helael has always been the quick thinker. They are trying to pressure the Winchesters and Jack to do… what, exactly?

Pulse. Pulse. Everything rises, and falls back in exactly the same place. Michael has mastered his control of it in so short a time. Has it always been so easy? he wonders. Perhaps he should have trusted his own abilities sooner.

The same. The same.

The scene around him is falling out of focus. The players in the heat of conflict, the spell readied for action.

Why must Michael allow the pieces to stay in place with every pulse?

He is not helpless. He is in control. He controls  _ himself _ . Agency.

His brother, dragging himself prostrate across the ground. He speaks to him. “Why are you doing this? Why do you hate humanity so much that this path is preferable?” His voice is still silenced, but Helael reads his lips and frowns.

“You  _ know  _ why, Michael. Look at them. I know you hate them as well.”

“What?” says Sam, startled by the sudden interaction. 

“I do not,” Michael says firmly. 

“You  _ do _ ,” Helael says, so invested in his words he stands up, forgetting his supposed fear of Father. “You told me.”

“What? When?” 

“Boys, that’s enough,” Father suddenly cuts in, but they ignore him.

“120,459,832 days ago,” Helael insists. “We went to the summer pavilion and watched the water birds dancing on the lake. I told you how I was struggling with my feelings and you told me it was okay I didn’t like them because you  _ hated _ them. So stop acting all high and mighty-”

“No,” Michael says, shaking his head. It finally dawns upon him. “Helael, that never happened. Father must have planted false memories when he extracted you.”

Helael scrunches his face thoughtfully at Michael. Father, without warning, hurls more light directly at the pair. Helael easily warps the gravity around them and bends the light up and away from them.

“Enough,” Father snaps. “Bringing you two here was a mistake. Why do you boys always make everything about yourselves?” He attacks them again, and Helael once more deflects it.

“Father, you forget,” Helael says, an eerie calm settling on his face. “We are not boys.”

Pulse.  _ Act _ . Pulse. Michael removes Lucifer’s shell from where it’s safely stored within his grace, and hands it to Helael.

“What is this?” Helael says, peering at the vial.

“Your shell. Your memories,” Michael tells him. “I worry that it will corrupt you, but.” He gazes imploringly into his brother’s eyes. “You will see that memory is false. We never had such a conversation.”

“Hmm.” Helael holds his gaze. An eons-old trust between them is holding resolute, despite everything. He opens the vial and allows his old grace to flood back into him. His lips curve up in a wry smile. “I see.”

Intense pain rips through Michael’s entire being as Father shoves three more leashes through Michael’s grace and drags him back towards Him, nearly tearing him in half in the process. He collapses in agony at Father’s feet, and He stares down at him, livid.

“Michael,” He hisses. “ _ Where  _ did you find that?”

Lightning crackles in the sky directly above them, the boom of thunder following seconds after, drawing everyone’s attention. Their eyes rise to the clear blue sky in wonder as lightning sparks all over it, and begins to leave a void in its wake. 

A passage into the cosmos.

“No, no, no,” Father says vacantly. “None of this.”

The hole is clean and precise. One of Raphael’s best works. Michael has slightly more pressing issues to attend to, however. The leashes currently tearing into him.

In. In. In. In. Pulse. Out. In. In. In. Pulse. Out. Out. In. In.

An angel passes through the void, and lands in the middle of the field.

“Cas?” Dean says, voice cracking with disbelief.

“Hello, Dean,” the malakh says in his gravelly voice. 

The crack in Father’s composure is almost audible to Michael. His Light and Dark are scrambling internally, screeching against each other as He loses more and more control of the situation.

Michael worries, but Father is the one causing trouble. His mental health  _ can’t  _ be Michael’s highest priority. He subtly removes the other leashes and slips away from Father, who is entirely distracted by the newcomer.

“We came to provide back-up,” Castiel says.

“ _ We _ ?” Father says weakly.

Angels and demons alike begin pouring down from the hole in the sky. They land in circles around Father’s little scene, forming larger and larger circles that spread out across the area, through the lake and the woods, as hundreds, then thousands of angels and demons come to join them.

“This isn’t right,” Father says, wheeling around in confusion. “What are all these people doing here? They’re not part of this. They’re not important.”

Michael’s heart breaks. His Father sounds so overwhelmed -

“Michael, focus,” Helael says lowly, pulling him up. “The spell.”

The spell? The one the Winchesters are casting? He gapes at Helael. Why does he think he’d help with that? 

Raphael decides now to make an entrance, electricity sparking around her as she gracefully manifests in front of Father.

“Good afternoon,” she says, somehow scathingly. “Father, I hear you’re hosting a party? How delightful.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Father mutters, frustrated. He snaps away entire circles of people at once, but more simply flood in to take their place.

Michael smiles apologetically at his younger sister. She must have gotten that vial open on her own. Or, possibly, Gabriel did it for her. He wonders where the youngest of them has gotten to. Raphael has not been one for smiling in the past few millennia, but her eyes do noticeably soften as she meets his gaze.

There are so many people here now that the chaos is pouring down Michael’s veins. The clusters of circles are intimidating enough on their own, but. Pulse. Michael can scatter them as he wishes. Pulse. Why not have them fall in a more strategic formation? Pulse. They exclaim as they’re moved about, seemingly at random, but Michael doesn’t care. Pulse. The outer circle locks into place, activating the sigils made of people on the inside. Symbols drawn with thousands of souls, perfectly lined up to Michael’s will. It’s not entirely original - he’s done it with armies under his command before - but it’s still invigorating to pull off. Father is trapped.

Wide-eyed and appalled, Father attempts to continue snapping people away, but the sigils restrict His abilities. “ _ What  _ is this?” He cries out at all of them. “You would do this to your own Father?”

“What’s wrong, Father?” Helael says coolly. “Locking people up is  _ your  _ M.O. We learned from the best. Don’t tell me you can dish it but you can’t take it?”

“You’re sealing me? No-” Father turns to the Winchesters, who have backed away from this cacophony. “I already explained why you can’t-”

“It’s not their decision to make, Father,” Raphael says, smiling. “You’re our responsibility. Not theirs. Or have you honestly forgotten they’re not the only people in the universe?”

“This isn’t,” Father says, the vehemence long having left his voice. “This isn’t the ending I wanted.” 

“It’s not  _ time  _ for the ending, Father,” Raphael says, with a strange emphasis on time, staring at Michael. “Not everything needs to end. Sometimes it’s best to keep going.” 

Time. Oh. Raphael is in cahoots with Mot as well. And - Helael? Michael shoots a puzzled glance at his brother, who has taken up a position to the north of Father. Raphael has stood west, and Michael, somehow, has reached the south. They look expectantly to the east, where Gabriel flies in on cue.

“Did I miss it?” he says, anxiously.

Mot  _ finally  _ begins channeling the spell. He must be fully cloaked to all, because Michael cannot sense him at all, just the spell starting to bloom. It’s his spell. Not a trap. In sync with his brothers, he smoothly begins to focus the sleep spell onto Father. Here, now, with so many people gathered, it seems like a ridiculous solution. Michael should be getting vengeance on Father. And yet, it seems too far at the same time. Michael wants to comfort his terrified Father.

A weakness on his part. Focus.

“Miss what,” Father chokes out, turning around to stare at each of them in turn. “What are you doing?”

He can’t perceive Mot either. Doesn’t realise they’re just putting Him to sleep. Father must think they’re trying to kill Him. This is too cruel.

“Father, it’ll be okay,” Michael says, voice breaking. The spell is already taking effect, His eyes drooping and body relaxing. He shoots a silent plea to Helael, who nods resignedly. They can focus the spell without him. 

He leaves his position and runs to Father, to catch Him as He falls asleep. As Father loses conscious His avatar loses corporeality, but Michael forces it to stay instead. It’ll be easier to deal with Father if He’s concentrated into the shape of a little man rather than spread out through the entire universe as an omnipresent Light. And Dark, Michael supposes.

“Should we separate them?” he asks, looking up. Mot appears in front of him as he cradles Father’s avatar. 

“I’d rather they both sleep for eternity,” he admits. “They’re both as bad as each other.”

“And as good,” Michael protests. “I was under the impression Aunt Amara had turned over a new leaf until Father manipulated her.”

Mot sighs. The other three approach them curiously.

“Father’s plan involved channeling his power into the nephil,” Helael informs them. “Perhaps we can use that.”

“Having a three year old in control of all of Light and Dark sounds nearly as bad as having Elohim in charge of them,” Mot observes.

“Yes. Well, Father wanted a big explosion, of course. What I am suggesting is from there we channel Light and Dark into the four of us. Amara and Father will be almost powerless. We can awaken Amara safely.”

“The four of you,” Mot says drily. “Ah, yes. You are essentially all three year olds yourselves.”

“Uncle,” Michael says, trying not to sound exasperated. “It’s a good plan, if we are actually able to move the powers in such a way.”

“It’s a good plan?” Raphael says in amazement. “Do I get a say in this? I don’t want Darkness consuming my grace.”

“With Light and Dark in equal amounts, they will balance each other out. You and Gabriel can opt out,” Michael suggests. “You are much smaller than Helael and I.”

Michael was honestly not intending that as an insult, but it riles Raphael up regardless. “Of course I will not ‘opt out’,” she says curtly. “I am just as capable as either of you.”

“Gabriel?” Helael asks the youngest.

“Um, sure,” Gabriel says. “Is this gonna hurt?”

“Hopefully not,” Helael says. 

“Great…”

###  **ix.**

Michael and Gabriel are the ones to talk to the bewildered Nephil. Raphael is no good with children and, well, Helael hasn’t exactly endeared himself to him.

“Hey kiddo,” Gabriel says. “We need your help with Dad.”

Castiel is standing rather protectively in front of Jack. What a pain. He did a rather good job of unnerving Father, at least.

“Seems like you have everything handled already,” he retorts. Michael wonders if it hurts him to use his vessels vocal chords like that.

“We’ve just put Dad to sleep,” Gabriel explains. “With Jack’s help, we can make sure he’s powerless to hurt people in the future.”

Jack looks hopeful. “How?”

“You can absorb Father’s powers,” Michael says. “You already took some in, correct?” The boy is glowing to Michael’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Jack says. “That’s how I was going to defeat him.”

Michael smiles. “What a brave boy you are.” He’s never actually spoken to a nephil before. They are considerably less repulsive up close.

“So we need you to take Dad’s power out of him, make him harmless. Problem is you won’t be able to contain it,” Gabriel continues. 

“I won’t?”

“You’re prepped to absorb it, but you’re just a nephil. It’ll get out of control within minutes. So you’ll need to divide it up and pass it between the four of us.”

Castiel, Jack and the Winchesters all look at the other two archangels, who are standing off to the side, watching them.

“I don’t think so,” Dean says.

“I agree. Not Lucifer.” Castiel surveys Michael and Gabriel. “I’m not sure about the rest of you.”

“This is the best way to maintain balance. My brothers and I naturally coexist as parallel forces of the universe. We will each be able to contain a quarter of Father and Amara’s combined power without causing destruction, while keeping the others in check.”

“What?” Perhaps that explanation had been too technical, even though Michael had been careful to use only simple terms. He looks to Gabriel for assistance.

“Here are the options. Don’t take dad’s power, he’ll wake up one day and we’ll have to deal with him again. Sucks, but fine. Two, take dad’s power into yourself but don’t distribute it to us equally. Universe goes boom. Three, take dad’s power and distribute it to us equally. Universe doesn’t go boom cause we’re all on each other’s asses. Capiche?”

“Gabriel, that language is hardly appropriate to use in front of a toddler,” Michael scolds.

“See?”

Jack nods. “I’ll help.”

“Whoa - hey - wait, Jack,” Sam says quickly. “Can we have a moment to talk about this?” he says to Gabriel and Michael.

“Sure,” says Michael, and he goes to rejoin with the others. Gabriel trots after him.

“So,” Helael says. “This was hardly the family reunion I was expecting.”

“Yes,” Michael agrees. He turns to the younger ones. “Mot found you after I returned your shells? I’m a little perplexed.”

“No, we went to him,” Raphael says. She cocks her head at him. “Michael, you do realise we were aware of our surroundings while you had us trapped in those little bottles?”

“I did not know that,” Michael acknowledges. He glances at Helael. That explains how he was clued into the plan all of a sudden. 

“Did you think I was psychic, brother?” he asks with a smirk. 

“It was strange,” Michael tells him, refusing to feel foolish.

“I don’t understand how you and Mot were planning to manage without us,” Raphael says. “You didn’t even go to fetch us for the sake of defeating Father.”

Michael frowns. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have expected any of you to help. I’m quite bewildered.”

“It’s a no-brainer,” Gabriel says. “I’m anti-apocalypse, and those two are pro-Michael. Ah, we should probably go bring all the mortals back,” he adds suddenly.

“How do we fi-” Gabriel vanishes while Michael is speaking. “-Nd them?” He looks to Raphael and Helael.

“Gabriel hitched a ride inside one of your vessel’s atoms while he was getting disappeared,” Raphael tells him. “It did occur to  _ some  _ of us  _ beforehand  _ that we’d need to find them.”

His vessel. Adam. Oh. He got himself killed on purpose. 

“Michael, don’t cry,” Raphael says in alarm. “What on earth?”

“I’m not crying,” Michael says. He wipes the tears away. He didn’t make them on purpose, so it doesn’t count.

Gabriel returns promptly with a young man in turn. “Hey, here you go,” he says, shoving Adam into Michael. Adam half-turns to glare at him but immediately does a double take back at Michael.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

The tears are brimming more uncontrollably now. Michael releases his control on the angels and demons in order to get a better grip on himself. When he doesn’t get a response, Adam doesn’t hesitate to move in for a hug.

“There there.”

“He’s had a long day,” Helael advises. “Father was dragging him around on a leash.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Gabriel says. “What the fuck?”

Raphael scowls. “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s just kill him.”

“I dearly wish to agree, but we must be responsible,” Helael says.

“What’s got you on the up and narrow all of a sudden?” Raphi grumbles.

He glances at Michael. “I’m a little bit frustrated with myself. This memory that Michael was so convinced was fake…”

“Yes, but you didn’t believe me until I gave you the old ones back,” Michael says, sounding terribly childish through all the tears. Helael offers him a sympathetic smile.

“I did believe you. Actually, I had the same memory in my old memories.”

“But-” Michael protests in disbelief.

“But I knew that you were telling the truth. You were acting a bit strange in that conversation all those years ago. I didn’t question it too much since you were agreeing with me, I suspect. Alas.”

“So it was… what, Dad fucking with you?” Gabriel asks.

“I suppose he wanted the devil even then.” Helael frowns in thought. “Or perhaps he had zero stakes in it, and just wanted to see how I’d react. Regardless, I think I’ll keep my toes in for the time being.”

“For the time being?” Michael raises an eyebrow, and he grins in response.

Team Jack come over. “I’ve decided. I’ll help,” he announces seriously. 

“Very good, Jack. Thank you,” Michael says, his tears mostly dried by now.

They wait. “So, uh, how exactly do we do this?” Sam asks eventually.

Michael looks to Helael and he shrugs. Pressing his fingertips to his brow, Michael replies, “We’re about to work that out.”

It’s not something that’s been done before, at least on this scale, but the four archangels and Mot look over the spell that Father had planned and together they calculate exactly how to carry out this transfer and division of power. Raphael creates a barrier to keep all the Empty escapees out, gently repulsing them from the area. This really isn’t something that should be interrupted.

They conduct the transfer, with Mot supervising. Michael, exhausted, is half-paranoid the Winchesters have something else up their sleeve and have convinced the nephil to do something stupid, but to his surprise and relief Jack follows the ritual exactly as directed, and the power of Light and Dark is safely distributed to the four archangels.

Michael feels bloated. Like when Adam eats too much food in a single sitting. He can see from his brothers’ faces they are suffering from the same. He lurches to Adam, his safety blanket in human form.

“You okay?” Adam says, checking his face carefully.

“I’m big,” Michael says. It’s all he can think right now.

“Yeah, you’re a big boy,” Adam says comfortingly. “My good big boy.” Michael nuzzles him affectionately.

After about an hour, they’ve barely recovered any. The four of them have been placed at a picnic table, and they sit there, trying to exist.

“You guys don’t seem to be taking this very well,” Jack says, worried. Michael wonders why they are still there.

“As they said, they exist in balance to one another. So they can’t enjoy the increase in power as they are functionally the same as ever. They’ve solely increased in mass,” Mot reminds them.

Michael wishes his uncle would tell the mortals to go away. He looks pleadingly at him, and, miraculously, Mot seems to understand.

“I’ll take care of them from here. Thank you for your help,” he says to Jack.

Michael is relieved when they finally leave them alone. “I hate your brothers,” he says to Adam. “Hate. Hate. Hate.”

“Half-brothers,” Adam says. “But yeah. I know.”

“These are my brothers,” he says, indicating his siblings. “Sisters, I suppose,” he amends, noting that all of them have changed to more feminine forms.

“I - uh - yeah. Well, I met Raphael and Gabriel already.” Gabriel waves at him in the most miserable fashion, and Raphael is not even listening, curling ever deeper into herself. Adam carefully avoids looking at Helael.

“While I was captured,” Michael says. “I’m sorry.”

Adam squeezes his hands. “I’m just surprised it all worked out as well as it did.”

“Father was slow to react. His curiosity got the better of him, so we were able to overpower him. If he had taken each of us out as soon as we became threats, we would have lost. Or at least suffered heavy casualties,” Michael says, thinking out loud.

“Yeah. Uhh, what exactly are you doing with him?” Adam asks, pointing at Father’s body.

“Er. First we are going to separate Aunt out of him. Then,” Michael shrugs, looking around the table. The younger two probably don’t want anything to do with him. And Helael has to rebuild 300,000 years of trust before Michael can put anyone in her care. “I suppose I will house him somewhere. Make sure he stays asleep for the next few millennia.”

Adam’s mouth stretches into an uncomfortable smile. “Well, he’s not staying with me.”

“Oh,” Michael says. He’s shocked, even though he shouldn’t be. Adam has disparaged Father for a long time. “The palace, or somewhere, I suppose. I’ll check on him. Not live with him,” he clarifies.

Adam relaxes. “That’s fine with me.”

Michael kisses him on the cheek. “Thank you.” Adam blushes.

“Miiiichaelllll,” Gabriel groans. “Do you have to do that stuff right in front of us?”

Michael leans over and pecks her on the cheek. She smacks him in response.

###  **x.**

Michael visits Mot, to thank him. He had left rather suddenly after helping them separate Father and Amara, and Michael felt bad leaving it like that considering how much he had helped him.

He steps into Death’s library, and approaches the desk. Mot has returned Billie to the position, but it seems she is taking a rather less active role as of late. She greets him with scorn.

“Archangel. You’re not meant to  _ be  _ here.”

“Hello, Death,” Michael says, trying to be polite. “Is Mot here?”

“Who?”

Time, the silent god. He doesn’t like to be worshipped, and stays in the shadows. Michael can relate. He often wishes his name hadn’t been included in the holy books.

“Ah, Billie. This one is for me, I suspect,” Mot’s dry voice echoes through the room from behind Michael. He turns and sees the reaper, his uncle not present. 

“Then get him out of here,” she says. “This isn’t a town square.”

The reaper beckons, and Michael follows him. They head down to Earth, into a cafe.

“He’ll be a moment,” the reaper tells him. “He’s fixing a glitch.”

They order food. Michael gets four orders of fries. He likes the taste of salt. 

There’s barely a change in the old reaper’s face as Mot possesses him. “Michael,” he greets. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I thought it’d be proper to thank you. For all your help,” Michael explains.

Mot raises an eyebrow. “I was helping myself.”

“Were you? You were angry at Father. You wanted him to suffer. Instead, you went soft on him. For my sake. I want you to know it was appreciated.”

“You’re an odd one,” Mot comments, eyeing Michael’s enormous basket of fries with a blank expression. “Very well. Frankly, I didn’t care about Elohim or the universe ending at all. So it didn’t matter to me what we did.”

“At all?” Michael asks, puzzled.

“At all. But there was a strange little archangel whose power was completely loose and distorting the future. I would hope you could understand why I’d be concerned with  _ that _ .”

“Oh.” How embarrassing. “I wasn’t trying to…”

“I know. When I came to the library and found you trying to control yourself, it was apparent it wasn’t on purpose. It was endearing. Since I had already bothered to manifest, I thought I may as well assist.”

Michael is extremely glad he left Adam at home for this. ‘Endearing’? He’d never hear the end of it.

“Well, thank you,” he repeats.

“You’re welcome. Besides, I tried to discourage you from resurrecting your brothers, and we would have lost without them. You would probably have been better off without me from the start.”

Michael shakes his head. “I didn’t go there to enlist them. Just to return what belonged to them.”

“I know.” His uncle watches him eat his fries one-by-one. “I didn’t realise there was a compassionate archangel.”

“We’re all compassionate, and we’re all cruel,” Michael says, slightly annoyed by the comment. “We’re just people. Like you.”

“Oh? Am I a person?”

“Of course you are.” Michael fixes him with his sternest glare. He is not going to argue such a silly point.

Mot smiles.

When Michael returns home, he has Mot’s phone number in his pocket. “Going to Death’s library is very much not the ideal way to contact me,” he had said. “I do hope you understand.”

Adam looks up from chopping vegetables in the kitchen. “Hey, you’re back,” he observes astutely. “How was your uncle? You’ve been gone a while.”

“We got food, for some reason,” Michael tells him. Adam fails to hide a grin. “He was fine. Proceeding as usual, I believe.”

“Mmm. Are  _ we _ proceeding as usual?” He winks.

“You’re already preparing food,” Michael says, confused.

“No, the part after that.”

Michael tilts his head and awaits an explanation.

“Aren’t you going to take me somewhere nice?” Adam prompts.

“I could,” Michael supposes. They hadn’t been on one of their cosmic dates since this whole mess started. “I thought tonight we could get started on making a child, though.”

Adam’s knife misses completely and he cuts a chunk of finger off. Michael immediately flies over, grabs his hand and fixes it.

“Careful,” he scolds. “What are you doing?”

“Ahh, fuck,” Adam says, looking at the blood covered onions. “Um. Making a child. Okay, you didn’t mean, like - right. You mean in a lab or something.”

“The basement workshop,” Michael confirms. “I have many ideas on how to do it.”

There’s a flush all up Adam’s neck and covering his face. “I - yeah. Sure. That sounds great, too.”

Michael kisses his neck. “I don’t think making a baby in the traditional sense will work for us. But we can have sex for fun, if you’d like.”

He walks off, leaving Adam to clean up the bloody mess on his own. The human calls out after him, “We can? Michael, wait, we can? Hey, come back!”

He picks up his phone to enter Mot’s number as a contact, and realises his sisters have been busily messaging in their group chat. It’s kind of like their private interdimensional communications channel, but you can read it when you choose, and also you don’t have three younger sisters screeching in your head at once. Gabriel has requested they move their weekly family meeting to Monday this week, even though it was she that originally proposed they always meet on Saturdays. Raphael and Helael are displeased and the three of them have been furiously messaging back and forth.

Michael frowns. He was the one that suggested they have weekly meetings, so they could keep in contact, but he didn’t want it to be the cause of more family drama. He begins to type a response.

_ gabRIel: oh no the old mans typing something!! Hide _

_ Raph: Grow up. _

_ Michael: Hello everyone. I have read your concerns. Since Helael and Raphael are still available on Saturday, I think it’s best we continue to meet then. Gabriel, I hope to see you next week. Love Michael _

_ luci: ok _

_ gabRIel: WHAT _

_ Raph: Fine. Thank you, Michael. _

_ gabRIel: BUT _

_ gabRIel: I _

_ gabRIel: youll regret this  _

_ Michael: ? _

_ gabRIel: dont ? me _

_ Michael: ? _

_ gabRIel: ffs _

Michael carefully puts his phone away. He  _ thinks  _ Gabriel is joking. Everything will be okay.

He thinks. He hopes.

He’s missed having a family. And now he has more family than he could have ever dreamed of. 

  



End file.
